


Fresh Start

by wesleyfanfiction_archivist



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-11
Updated: 2006-04-10
Packaged: 2018-05-31 10:21:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6466525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleyfanfiction_archivist/pseuds/wesleyfanfiction_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>S4 - After Jasmine dies Wesley leaves LA and tries to find a new life</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [WesleyFanfiction.net](http://fanlore.org/wiki/WesleyFanFiction.Net). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [WesleyFanfiction.net collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wesleyfanfiction/profile).

Part 1

 

It was several hours before dawn. Wesley couldn’t sleep. His heart still ached at the loss of Jasmine. He wanted back the peace of mind he had been denied his entire life. It was his brass ring, and he lost it. Rupert has slunk back to Sunnydale after cutting him, Wesley’s emotional chilliness too much for him to bear. Angel had a long speech about free will, but Wesley didn’t care to listen to all of it. Free will? What did Angel know? He changed the course of human events daily. Hell, even his existence was against the law of nature, a dead thing walking the earth disguised as a man. Wesley knew he sounded bitter, but he didn’t have anything else. If he let go of bitter, what was underneath? He was scared to find out. 

He rose out of bed, unrested and weary, and packed his few remaining belongings that were at the hotel. He would call to have the rest of his things at the flat put in storage. He didn’t have the energy or wherewithal to deal with it now. He wanted out. 

Wesley threw the duffel bag into the back of the vehicle and started driving, leaving Los Angeles, leaving his so-called friends behind, and heading towards the only place he knew to go that the door wouldn’t be slammed in his face. He hoped.

Pink rays of light lit the sky as he parked in front of Rupert Giles’ flat. He knew that Rupert was in Sunnydale for awhile to see Buffy and her friends, be their father figure and guide, same as always. No room for Wesley in that tight knit group. No room for Wesley anywhere. He considered driving off, finding someplace new, alone, but he couldn’t bring himself to start the engine again. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he wanted to be here. He missed Rupert. 

He listened to the ticking of the engine cooling, and stepped out, walking purposefully to the front door and knocking. For a few heart-stopping seconds he thought what if Rupert had left early, gone back to England, but he heard a shuffle of slippers and the lock turned. “Wesley?” Was his surprised greeting.

Wesley nodded. “What’s left of me anyway. Can I come in?” 

Rupert nodded, stepping aside and pulling his robe closed. “What are you doing here?” 

Wesley sat down on the sofa, rubbing his temple as a headache started to form behind his eyes. He told Rupert the part of the story he didn’t already know, after everyone saw the real Jasmine, the chaos and death that followed, the offer from Lilah, the general feeling that everyone was going to accept because Angel wanted to. He looked up at Rupert, who was standing and nodding at everything Wesley said. “Well, let me get the kettle on.” was Rupert’s reply.

Rupert moved into the small kitchen, preparing the tea. “Still doesn’t tell me why you came here, Wesley. You could have gone anywhere.”

Wesley stood; sliding onto a barstool and watching Rupert sift through the cabinets for sugar. “This was the first place I thought of. I’ll go if you want.”

Rupert turned, giving him a small smile. “No, I’m glad you came. Not very much to do around here I’m sorry to say. Buffy has things handled her own way. As does Faith, the other slayers. Even bloody Andrew. I’m thinking of leaving early.”

 

Wesley nodded. “To Bath?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t relish rattling around there much more then here. It’s getting harder to enjoy being alone now. I hear too much silence these days.” Rupert said, measuring the loose tea and putting it in the pot.

Wesley sighed. “Yes, I can understand that. I wish…” He let the thought hang there, no words could make it so, so why say anything.

Rupert listened a moment to see if he would finish his thought, but it became apparent he wouldn’t. “Wishes are for children, Wesley. Sometimes you have to grab life by the bollocks and hope for the best.”

A ghost of a smile passed Wesley’s lips. “Sounds painful.”

Rupert laughed. “I suppose so.” He slid a cup of tea across the counter to Wesley with the sugar and milk. “Maybe we should go away together? For a time. Start over.”

Wesley narrowed his eyes. “In what capacity? I believe we have failed all forms of relationships except desperation due to lack of choice.”

Rupert sipped his tea rather then reply rudely and start a fight. “That may be, but the past is the past. I believe we would both like fresh starts, Wesley. I’m not going to force you.”

Wesley turned the cup around and around in his hands, enjoying the familiar warmth. “Perhaps. Where are you thinking of going?”

“I don’t know really. I hadn’t given it fully consideration.” Rupert answered honestly, moving to sit on the sofa and patting the cushion beside him for Wesley to join him. “What about Mexico? We could drive there, might be pleasant. I’ve never been.”

Wesley raised his eyebrows as he sat down. “Mexico? I only speak a little Spanish; I know more demon languages then human. But…oh bloody hell, why not? To Mexico.” He held up his teacup and clinked with Rupert’s. 

“To Mexico.” Rupert laughed, and leaned forward to kiss Wesley’s cheek. 

Wesley pulled back. “No. It can’t be like that. It’s too messy. Let’s just do this as….mutual acquaintances.”

Rupert blinked. “Mutual acquaintances. I see. Well, if that is how you feel, alright.” He answered evenly, trying not to feel hurt.

Wesley didn’t elaborate or apologize, just finished his tea and placed it on the coffee table. “When should we leave?”

“Today. I see no reason to wait. I’ll pack a few things and leave a message for Buffy and Dawn.” Rupert said briskly, standing and taking their cups to the sink. “I’ll ask Spike to flat sit.” 

Wesley snorted. “Spike?” 

Rupert shrugged. “He’s surprisingly neat, and remembers to water the plants. Doesn’t eat all my biscuits either.” He went about the tasks of making his phone calls, writing a note to drop off at Spike’s crypt, and then went upstairs to get dressed and pack. 

When he came down, slicking his wet hair down with his hand, Wesley was looking out the window. “What are you thinking about?” Rupert asked, coming up behind him, resisting an urge to place a hand on his shoulder. 

“Nothing of consequence.” Wesley answered sadly. “Are you ready? We have miles to go before we sleep.” 

“And promises to keep.” Rupert whispered back with a sigh. He turned away and went to fetch his car keys. 

*~* 

Two days later they crossed the border and drove until they had found an inexpensive motel near the beach. Rupert carried their things inside while Wesley looked at the waves, the same blank expression he had worn since they started out. “Wesley, let’s go down, see if the water is warm.” Rupert encouraged, hoping to get more then polite answers out of the man. Even at the two hotels they had stopped at for the night getting here, Wesley was removed and calm, sleeping on the edge of the bed, moving away when Rupert tried to get closer. 

They took off their shoes and socks, gingerly walking over the hot sand and dipping their feet into the water. Wesley smiled as the waves lapped at his toes, rolling up his pants and almost falling over. Rupert reached out to steady him, and for once, Wesley didn’t pull away. They stood side by side for a long time, listening to the ocean, sinking into the sand as the tide pulled at their feet. Rupert put out his hand, and Wesley took it, their fingers interlocking like lost puzzle pieces. Wesley didn’t say anything, and neither did Rupert, but their hearts felt a little lighter. Their fresh start had finally begun. 

 

To be continued…


	2. two

The days began to melt into one another in the most pleasing way. Rupert watched Wesley become pink, then a warm golden color from so much sun. He purchased a razor at the marketplace, and ordered prescription sunglasses as well as ordinary wire spectacles. Rupert liked the glasses. They made Wesley’s face softer, more open somehow, he noticed the flinty hardness had left his eyes in any event, and was glad of it. And now with the scruffy stubble gone, he looked young again, innocent. They slept in the same bed, and sometimes Wesley would allow Rupert to brush a casual hand over his hip in a pseudo-hug, or hold his hand when they walked on the shoreline, but anything closer and he shied away like a skittish colt. Rupert always smiled a patient smile and would change the subject to something arbitrary like the abundance of fresh fruit available locally or an interesting shell he had noticed on the beach. 

One night, after they had been in Mexico for about a week, Rupert doing a crossword puzzle and mangling the end of a pen, Wesley mouthing phrases aloud from a Spanish phrases book, they heard a commotion on the beach. They glanced at each other and then the clock. It was almost midnight. They both stood, found weapons, put on shoes, and went to the door, ever trained and ready to jump into the fray. They stole down the beach quietly, rushing forward when a woman screamed, only to realize it was because a man, her boyfriend presumably, had knocked her into the sand and was kissing her. She was kissing back, not an inch to spare between them. Rupert and Wesley took a step back. A man was building a bonfire a little ways off, and another was sitting in the sand with a guitar, filling the air with soft music, sad and lovely and slow. “Seems we’ve crashed a party of sorts.” Rupert noted, watching couples pair off to talk and cuddle. Tequila was passed around in a bottle, and laughter mixed easily with the sounds of the waves and the guitar. 

Wesley shook his head, pocketing the stake and headed back to the hotel wordlessly. Rupert followed him, shutting the door behind them, but the music was still audible. “Should I call the manager, have them rousted?” Rupert asked, putting his hand to the telephone receiver. 

“No. I think I rather enjoy it.” Wesley replied, pulling Rupert closer to him and swaying to the rhythm. Rupert’s arms went around Wesley’s waist and he closed his eyes, enjoying the closeness. “I love you.” He said quietly.

Wesley stopped dancing and pulled back, looking into Rupert’s face, his eyes searching for something only he knew. “I love you too.” He finally said, his mouth twitching in an endeavor to smile through his fear. 

Without an attempt to analyze or discuss the matter, Rupert started to remove Wesley’s shirt and pants in a matter of fact manner, took off his own clothes, and laid Wesley back on the bed gently. “Tell me if you don’t want to.” He murmured, slipping the sheet over them both. Wesley didn’t reply, but intertwined his legs around Rupert’s and brushed his mouth over Rupert’s jaw line in acquiescence. They made love with quiet intensity, their ragged breathing ebbing and flowing in the darkness, their hearts beating rapidly against one another’s chests as they sought to exorcise the past. Wesley sobbed afterwards, and Rupert held him, instinctively knowing why, and kissing away the salty tears from his lover’s cheeks. “It’s alright, it’s alright.” He whispered. “We are here now, together, nothing will change that.” 

Wesley’s breath shuddered as he tried to compose himself. “Do you promise?” He whispered back, a fierce, urgent need in his voice.

“I promise.” Rupert replied, just as his cell phone rang on the nightstand.

*~*

“A week at the most.” Rupert cajoled for the umpteenth time. “You can come with me still.”

“No. I wasn’t asked for; I will only get in the way.” Wesley answered stiffly, thrusting Rupert’s bag at him to keep the man from hugging him. 

Rupert grimaced. “I don’t have to go…”

Wesley shook his head. “You do. Buffy can’t do this without your support. It’s important. I understand Rupert. I’ve fought in apocalypses before you know.”

Rupert sighed deeply and leaned closer to kiss Wesley goodbye. “I’ll call you when I land.” He said.

“Please don’t.” Wesley answered, his voice thick with emotion. “It will hurt more. Just come back to me, safe.” He turned away and walked back to the rental car, driving off without a backwards glance, trying to swallow back down his heart that had insisted on lodging in his throat.

*~*

Weary and sore, but ultimately triumphant, Rupert impatiently thrust the key into his hotel door. He had been gone ten days. Ten long days without Wesley. He hoped Wesley was already in bed, he longed to hold him close, kiss, make love. He turned on the small lamp by the bed and was surprised to see the bed made and unslept in. It was almost two in the morning. He walked down to the front desk and inquired if the manager knew if Wesley had gone out. The manager gave him an apologetic smile and tried to explain in a mix of Spanish and English where Wesley had gone. Rupert had him repeat some things a few times to get the full story, but it soon became all too apparent to him what was going on. 

The manager told him that Wesley hadn’t spent the night in the room for the past three days, that he had met a young man on the beach, Thomas, the boy that cleaned the hotel pool, and now spent the night at his house, a few blocks from here, returning after sunrise and not letting the maid in until late afternoon. 

Rupert’s chest tightened painfully. This couldn’t be happening. What was Wesley doing? Punishing him for leaving? Moving on? Keeping warm until Rupert returned? He asked the manager for directions which the man grudgingly gave, praying to God above that he never had cause to anger the man before him. He felt sorry for the man’s boyfriend, and Thomas, he could see from the man’s icy stare that this surely wasn’t going to end well. He crossed himself and went back to working on the accounting books fretfully. 

Rupert drove to the address, barely noticing the pleasant suburban neighborhood and braking hard when a cat with a large bell around its neck darted in front of him. He swore under his breath and turned a corner, parking in front of the house. He looked up; there was a light on downstairs. Good, one of them was up at least. He opened the car door, slammed it shut, and stalked over to the front door, pressing the doorbell then pounding on the door with his fist. A few seconds later Wesley opened it and Rupert’s breath pulled in sharp. He realized he had been half hoping the man at the desk was wrong, and that Wesley was just going for a walk or something else benign. He blinked back tears. “What the bloody hell is going on Wesley? How could you do this to us?” He cried out, grabbing a fistful of Wesley’s shirt and pushing him backwards into the foyer. 

Wesley blinked. “Rupert? Oh my God, Rupert, you are here, you’re safe!” He tried to hug the man close but Rupert would have none of it. 

“You are a bloody bastard, Wesley! I loved you, and this is how you treat me? God damned wanker!” He pulled his arm back, swung hard, and his fist connected with Wesley’s jaw, laying him out flat. 

Rupert shook his stinging hand, breathing too fast, and feeling like he was going to vomit. A young man rushed down the stairs, seventeen at the most, tall and handsome. He looked at Rupert with undisguised shock and fear, then knelt beside Wesley, crooning something in Spanish that Rupert didn’t catch, and trying to wake him up. Rupert turned, stumbling out of the house and walking all the way back to the hotel, not giving a damn about his car or the blood on his knuckles or the sick twisting of his guts, only feeling his heart breaking over and over in his chest and wondering how he could continue to draw breath when everything in him wanted to die. He blindly made it to the hotel bed he and Wesley had shared, and curled in a tight ball, gasping like a fish out of water, and wishing that he had been swallowed up into the earth in Sunnydale with Spike.

To be continued…


	3. three

Rupert realized he must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew he heard a soft knocking at the door, then the turn of a key in the lock. Wesley came in, the right side of his face puffy and turning a nasty shade of purple. He held a handkerchief with ice in it, presumably from the ice bin down the hall. His smile was tentative, and marked with pain. “Rupert. I was hoping we could talk.”

Rupert sat up slowly, keeping his arms around himself for protection even though the damage was entirely emotional and could not be warded off so easily. “I’m listening.” He said stiffly, hoping he could get through this breakup without bawling in front of Wesley. He wanted to preserve some tiny shred of dignity if he could.

Wesley sat in the chair near the window, closing his eyes for a moment and adjusting the ice on his cheek. “Thomas is not my lover.” He started. “I was staying with him, and his four year old sister as well by the way, to protect them. From a vampire.”

Rupert’s arms dropped. He hadn’t considered this. Guilt suffused him. He had jumped to a quick conclusion, saying Wesley was a liar and cheater without any real proof. When Wesley had opened the door he was fully dressed, down to his shoes, not really caught in any kind of act. “Go on.” He said, unsure what to say at this point.

“A few days ago I was walking on the beach. I was going to purchase some post cards and send them to Fred, Charles and Angel. There was a little girl crying, and her brother was trying to keep her voice down. She was sobbing about a _bebedor de la sangre_ , a blood drinker.” Wesley continued. “I recognized the boy from our hotel and went to talk to them, telling them who I was, what I used to do, and asking them if they could direct me to the vampire so I could kill it. Thomas told me that the vampire his sister Bonita spoke of was their father. He had left the family home the week before to play cards with friends, and didn’t return until the night before I met them when he had killed their mother.” Wesley paused in his story to take a deep breath. “The little girl was so sweet; it’s terrible she had to go through that. Both of them saw it happen, right inside their own home.”

Rupert stood, walked over to Wesley and knelt in front of him. “Dear Lord, Wesley, can you ever forgive me? I thought…I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave me. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Rupert’s breath hitched in his throat as he cast pleading eyes up at him.

Wesley reached out, gently touching Rupert’s cheek. “Rupert, I love you. That hasn’t changed. You owe me, quite definitely, and I shall take remuneration, but I’m not going to leave you. Come here.” He pulled Rupert up into his arms, laying down the ice, and hugging him tight. “You needn’t be jealous, love, I have already given my heart away, and I couldn’t take it back if I tried.”

“It wasn’t your heart I was thinking that you had shared.” Rupert answered with a rueful chuckle. 

Wesley laughed, pulling back to fix Rupert with a scolding look. “I wasn’t sharing that either. Should I get a tattoo, _property of Rupert Giles_?” 

“No, of course not.” Rupert answered, trying to look contrite, and failing. “It wouldn’t fit. My initials will suffice.” 

Wesley’s mouth opened in a large O as he shoved Rupert backwards, making him fall to the carpet. “Wanker! Clearly you need a reminder. Sunnydale has addled your brain. Oh, speaking of which, how did everyone fair, clearly the world didn’t end. Is Buffy alright?”

Rupert sat up, brushing off his hands. “It went better then expected, for some, but there were losses. We can discuss it in depth later. Tell me the rest of your story.”

“Of course. Well, after Thomas ran off with his sister to a neighbor’s house, they called the police, but there was no sign of struggle when they arrived. And once the police heard Thomas’ story, they stopped being interested. Both parents were listed as missing. Thomas and his sister are awaiting a hearing from a foster care facility and a social worker is keeping an eye on them. Thomas will be 18 in a few weeks, so he will probably seek custody of his sister at that point. In any event, I told them I believed their story, that I suspected their mother had been turned as well, and that they were in danger. I said I would stay with them that night, watch for any threats. Both vampires came that night, though they were unprepared for someone knowing how to dispose of their kind. They were hungry and untrained, and I was quickly able to dust the father. The mother ran off in self preservation, but I know her instinct for her children will remain strong, and she will return. I vowed to stay with Thomas and Bonita until I could dispose of the demon posing as their mother, and help them start their lives over again. It may not be an apocalypse, but we all contribute in our own ways.” Wesley stood and retrieved a ginger ale from the tiny refrigerator and drank it down thirstily. 

Rupert followed, putting his arms around Wesley from behind and pulling him close. “I think what you are doing is admirable. I want to help too. If you’ll have me.” 

“If you apologize to Thomas for scaring the bloody hell out of him, then yes.” Wesley replied, leaning into Rupert’s embrace. 

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” Rupert whispered, running his mouth along Wesley’s ear.

Wesley shivered as goose bumps rose on his flesh from the intimate touch. “Nothing. But I’m in love with you, so it can’t be helped. I‘m quite stuck.”

Rupert turned him around. “Stuck? I’ll have to try harder to make it worth your enormous sacrifice.” He said, kissing Wesley carefully, trying to avoid hurting his bruised cheek and jaw.

“I believe I was the one doing the reminding.” Wesley murmured, pulling away and unbuttoning his shirt. “Strip down, get on all fours, and let’s see if we can do something about that cheeky mouth of yours.” 

Rupert smirked. “I think probably not, but I’ll take my punishment like a man.” He said, pushing off his shoes with one foot then the other.

“Indeed you shall, but not as you should.” Wesley grinned. “No one in town sells riding crops.”

*~*

Rupert ran his fingers over the lines of Wesley’s sleeping body, unable to wipe the silly smile off his face. Everything was alright again. Wesley was his, completely his. He put on his dressing gown, picked up Wesley’s cell phone and slipped outside, looking up Thomas’ name in the phonebook menu. He explained the situation, apologized profusely, and listened patiently as Thomas berated him while listing Wesley’s virtues and kindnesses to him and his baby sister. Rupert added he would come by tonight, cook dinner for the three of them, and keep watch for the vampire; he wanted to let Wesley get some rest. Thomas reluctantly agreed to take what he considered unequal help, but he also felt that Senor Wesley deserved a night off. 

Rupert went back inside, showered and dressed, gathered his weapons, and left a note for Wesley as to his whereabouts. He shut the door behind him quietly and left to go to the market before sundown, wondering what little girls liked to eat. 

*~*

Wesley woke up hours later to a knock on the door. He looked around, feeling disoriented by the darkness. A glance at the clock told him it was almost 10:00 o’clock. He stood quickly, feeling guilty for sleeping so long, pulled a blanket from the bed around himself and opened the door; sure it was Thomas worried about where he was. “I’m sorry Thomas, come in.” He started, before realizing it was a woman standing before him. “Can I help you?” 

She smiled, an empty smile that chilled his blood as he watched her face turn. She sniffed the air, licking the tips of her fangs. “Si…” She said, laughing and reaching for Wesley with long, manicured nails. 

Wesley dropped the blanket, rushing to grab a stake from the nightstand drawer, but she was too fast, pouncing on him like a lioness before he took two steps. She forced him to the floor, and he cried out for help, berating himself for being so foolish. Of course she could enter, it was a public place, and she must have easily tracked him from his smell at the house. He should have put a protective barrier on the doors and windows of the hotel room, but it was too late now.

“Adios, Senor.” The thing on top of him hissed like a snake, sinking her fangs into his throat. He struggled to no avail, and felt the darkness wash over him like cold waves. 

To be continued…


End file.
